Surprising More Often Than Not
by PanicFrenzy
Summary: Sherlock is normally completely uninterested in socializing with anyone. The new student in his school is proving to be an exception. "justmebeingadork's" Give me some feedback maybe? M for possible later chapters.
1. The New Student pt 1

John wakes up and yawns. He lazily opens his eyes to look at the half unpacked boxes strategically placed around his room. He notices that the sun bleeding through his curtains is very bright, not at all how it should be for 6 am, the time he needs to get up so he can get ready in time to make it to his new school. Suddenly realization dawns on him.

"Shit!" He breathes harshly as he jumps out of bed and throws on jeans and a clean t-shirt that was laying on a desk in his bedroom. He grabs his school bag off of the hardwood floor and rushes down the stairs and runs through the kitchen grabbing a banana on his way out.

-Chapter 1-

Sherlock has been sitting in class for exactly 25 minutes and 12 seconds. He has officially run out of things to newly deduce in this room exactly 21 minutes and 43 seconds ago. He has spent the rest of the time reading through a college-level forensic science textbook, seeing as he has absolutely no intentions of paying attention to the teacher's lecture about parts of speech. Sherlock feels as though English is an absolutely inutile class after you've learned how to properly speak and know the basics. Of course, Sherlock knows much more than the basics. Possibly even more than the teacher herself.

Just as he's about to turn the page he hears the door burst open and notices a well-built boy with sandy blonde hair that is currently sticking up on one side, most likely from his pillow, wheezing from exhaustion probably caused from running most, if not all of the way here, shuffling towards the woman at the white board uncomfortably. Obviously the git realizes all eyes have rested on him. Sherlock loses interest and replants his eyes into his book as he turns the page.

The boy apologizes to the teacher for being late, but offers no excuse as to why. Suddenly Sherlock finds himself slightly interested, though about half of the class has effectively lost interest, and peers over his overly-large book from his seat in the back corner of the room to look on at the new student. The teacher introduces him to everyone as John Watson, then instructs him to sit anywhere as her class does not have a specific seating chart.

"Even if I had one, no one would follow it" She adds with a friendly smile. Mrs. Revera is a middle-aged women with dark brown hair and eyes, with wrinkles on her face from many years of happy smiles.

John's face is flushed, possibly from a mixture of embarrassment and fatigue, mostly the latter. He starts walking through the messy mob of students and desks, quickly looking over the crowd's faces but skipping Sherlock's, much like everyone else, then quietly slides into a seat near the front, but not in the front row. How utterly expected. Boring. Sherlock scoffs to himself as, once again, his interest for the boy drops, though not completely dissipating. He watches as John pulls a notebook out of his bag and begins copying down this weeks vocabulary as Sherlock sticks his nose back into his book that is surely more fascinating than this John person.

During the duration of the class John has talked to exactly 9 different students, 5 of which stopped at the more obvious questions such as "Where did you move from, do you have a girlfriend, do you miss your friends, etcetera" John answers all of them nicely and smiles at all of the students being friendly.

The bell rings and the teacher asks John to show her his schedule. He willingly supplies the crumpled paper from his back pocket.

"Looks to me like you have Mrs. Reed for Biology next, that right?"

"Yes ma'am." John respectably responds.

Mrs. Revera turns towards the last student exiting the room and frowns slightly. "Mr. Holmes," she says, causing the tall dark haired boy to turn towards her and look at her irritably with his light blue-grey eyes. "Would you please be so kind as to show young Mister Watson here to his next class?"

Sherlock gives an exasperated sigh before responding with a very obviously faked friendly smile. "Sure." and walking out without turning around to see if John has followed.

John quickly nods in appreciation as he chases the boy out of the classroom.

"I have Mrs. Reed for Biology next. It says room three-"

"Three hundred and ninety four. Yes I know. I have that class next also." The marble-skinned boy cuts him off with.

"Alright then! And uh, thank you, for uh, showing me to the class. I didn't catch your name?" John says with a shy smile.

"I was going that way anyway. And it's irrelevant seeing as after probably a day and a half of being here you'll disassociate yourself with me." Sherlock replies in a matter-of-fact manner.

John gives a worried frown. "Why on earth would you think that?" Sherlock is slightly taken back and looks at the strange new student. Any other teenager here would surely just shrug and continue on silently as if they never said anything to each other in the first place. Interesting.

Sherlock furrows his brows and squints his eyes. "As you will soon be well aware of, I am not very... _liked_ amongst my peers here in this school, or anywhere else for that matter because apparently everyone is too hurt by the truth and do not take kindly to those who deduce their lives by simply giving them a once-over."

John looks at him curiously. Then, he smiles, apparently interested in this said "deducing" method as the boy in front of him calls it. He runs in front of Sherlock and spreads out his arms, widening his smile into a full ear-raising, toothy grin.

Sherlock looks at the strange new student quizzically before his thoughts are interrupted with a "Give it a go then!"

Sherlock rolls his eyes closed and lets out an impatient sigh before opening them again. "Alright then. John Watson. You play Rugby, and you've been playing for a while. Probably started between the age 7 and 9. You moved here due to your parent's work. Your mother's work is probably less serious than your father's so it would be his work. Most likely not government, probably something to do with scientific, or business related research..."

John's jaw has gone slack and he's staring in awe. Sherlock wonder's if he's been scared off yet.

"...You have an older brother, probably gay, who you don't get along with fantastically, though you aren't on bad terms with either. Your father is usually busy and your mother likes to smother you with affection at home. You get average grades but when you submit yourself you can do better, and usually do in a few classes of your choosing which I have yet to identify. English is most certainly not one. And to be more obvious-"

"Wha- How- More obvious? How is any of that obvious?!" John exclaims.

Sherlock lets out another impatient sigh. "You're well built but not brawny. So not football, but rugby. There are only a few reasons for someone to start school in a different town, and you don't have the personality of a trouble maker and you're very respectful of your adults. So parent's work it is. Your mother had time to pack you a lunch and paint her nails, some of it got on to the lunch bag. So affectionate, and not busy. Father then. Out of the many jobs that would cause you to move and your father to lack spare-able attention for his family it's more than likely research of business or science. Your back pack is obviously a hand me down since it has "Harry" written on it, but not old enough for it to be your fathers. There's also the faint remains of a rainbow flag drawn on the bag which you have undoubtedly tried to wash off again and again. You went through the trouble of writing down the vocabulary but did not try to complete it. English doesn't hold your interest, but going through the notions shows that you do participate in some classes. And as I was saying, to be more obvious you are about 14, possibly 15. More than likely 14. Obvious because you are a freshman. You haven't been held back and it's still early in the year. Being held back would have been caused from all of the moving around but it seems as though this is your first _real_ move." Sherlock concludes seemingly without taking a breath.

John gapes at him in awe. "That... was just amazing. Bloody brilliant!" John looks at him with respect and appreciation for his talent. That's definitely new.

"Yes, well, it was, wasn't it?" The boy responds with a smile that looks so natural and beautiful on his highly placed cheekbones. His smile returns back into the depths of his emotions and he is stoic, and unconcerned again. "That isn't what people usually say though."

John gives him a confused smile. "What do they usually say, then?"

Sherlock looks at him, devoid of all emotions. "Piss off."

To Sherlock's surprise John snorts into a fit of laughter, clutching at his sides. Sherlock soon joins him.

Once their laughing has resided to smiling, Sherlock holds out his hand. "I'm Sherlock. Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."

John takes his hand and grins and replies with a hint of humor and an overly strong fake accent. "John Watson. Pleasure to meet ya, kind sir."

Sherlock flashes him a smile, a real "I-am-sort-of-happy-right-now" smile. and continues walking him to class.

"One thing though. She's my sister." John says as he comes up from behind to catch up and walk beside Sherlock.

"What?" Sherlock looks at John like he just started speaking in tongues.

"I don't have an older brother. It's an older sister." John smiles at him genuinely.

Sherlock stares blankly at the boy before furrowing his brows and responding. "Damn!" He whispers. "That explains why a boy would draw a rainbow flag on his bag. A boy probably wouldn't, but a _girl_ would." Sherlock spits out the word.

**This is my first attempt at a story, so it's amateur at best. I hope you like it though, any suggestions are welcome and critisism is fine, but please don't be mean, I might cry. (Or just get fat off of some delicious icecream if I can find the specific kind I love haha) This WILL be a Johnlock eventually, but I do intend to work up to that. Tell me what you think, Please and thank ya!**


	2. The New Student pt 2

**The REST of Chapter 1.**

John laughs at his new possible friend's annoyance at his minor miss fired deduction. Unfortunately Sherlock doesn't seem to notice he made any noise what so ever. John falls behind him just a little bit so that he's no longer walking side by side with him, but behind him. John starts to take in his surroundings. The lockers are all dark blue in this hallway, but they're different in some other hallways that John went past before he found his class. Maybe they're colored differently for each grade? The floors are white tile with the school colors, silver, gold, and navy, forming diamonds on them in an artistic fashion. The hallway is clearing out and most of the students have presumably gone to their classes.

A tall man is standing in the hallway telling the students to hurry up. "You're going to be late!" He says. His voice is slightly raspy. He's balding and wears a striped tie with a button down shirt and slacks. He has a friendly conversation before telling the student to hurry to her class.

Sherlock opens a door then steps into Mrs. Reed's Biology classroom. He seemingly forgot all about John following him as he slips behind the table that he has vandalized with his scientific theories and conundrums since the start of the school term. John walks into the classroom behind him and goes straight to the desk where a women with thin curly dark brown hair, rather gaudy jewelry and clothing choice and classic red lipstick that she pulls off surprisingly well.

As he steps up to her desk she looks up at him. Her eyes are a very light blue.

"Uh, I'm a new student, my name is John Watson." John Says rather awkwardly while handing her his crumpled up schedule. She smiles at him and introduces herself as Mrs. Reed.

"You can sit anywhere for right now, I'll give you an assigned seat eventually. Darnell! I know you didn't bring a drink into my class!" She gives the boy with a cup in his hand a very stern and disapproving look.

"Nah, Mrs. Reed. Look bro-"

"Don't call me bro. I am not your _bro_, I'm not your _homey, dog, _orwhat ever other names you kids can come up with." Mrs. Reed states, managing to cut him off in the process.

"Alright well, _Mrs. Reed._ It's just ice, see?"

"I don't care. throw the cup out. You know my rules." She says before going back behind her computer to take roll.

John sees a few empty seats, most of the row near the back window where Sherlock sits is empty. He walks over to the seat directly to Sherlock's right and sits down. Apparently Sherlock decides to come visit Earth again. Sherlock looks at him as though he had just said he likes to gut kittens and eat their intestines. This expression John is receiving makes him nervous.

"Eh, what? Did I do something wrong?" John nervously looks around to make sure that the other students aren't giving him the same unnerving expression. They're not. He looks back at Sherlock who's expression went from something disgusted or horrified, to one that makes him look like he's trying to solve a particularly difficult or confusing puzzle.

"Why have you sat there? That's very unexpected and possibly the worst decision you could have ever made unless you take joy in completely unhinging any chance of a social life." Sherlock _is_ apparently puzzled, he realizes. He can't figure this boy out. He know the other students don't like Sherlock. And _obviously_ he's not one who is good with rejection. So why on _Earth_ would he make such a stupid deci-

John gives him an expression that somehow makes him think of a rejected puppy. "I like you..." He says with a frown. "...You're really quite interesting..." John casts his gaze downward. "...Isn't that reason enough to sit next to you?"

Sherlock's stomach feels warm and slightly uncomfortable. He's not sure how he feels about this particular feeling yet. Sherlock looks down at the table. "Oh. Right then. That's very good, I suppose." He glaces at John with squinted eyes and furrowed brows, then back down out the table. He thinks _Sherlock's_ interesting? People think he's weird, or a freak... Hell, sometimes people even assume he's gay. But _Interesting?_

Sherlock can see John is shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I think you're interesting too." Sherlock says to break the thick silence between him. He doesn't remove his eyes from a pencil smear on the table. He notices John smile from the corner of his eyes. The teacher starts her lecture and they wait the rest of the class period out in silence. Mrs. Reed would separate them if she caught them talking in class.

The last two classes of the day John does not share with Sherlock. After school he looks around for the mysterious genius but sees no sign of them. So John decides to walk home. He walks up the front steps and opens the door to find no one home. His room is still totally unpacked and he needs a shower. "Tomorrow." He mumble as he crashes onto his bed, closing his eyes and drifting off into somewhere wonderful. "Tomorrow." He mumbles again, only this time softer.


	3. Meeting the Anti-Sherlocks

John rubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns before thinking about yesterday and immediately panic and hysteria washes over him before he concludes that it is, in fact, still dark outside. He lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding in before picking up his phone off of the table right next to his bed to see what time it actually was. 5:55. Perfect. He has more than enough time to shower and eat breakfast today.

He goes downstairs and finds his mother packing his lunch. Mrs. Watson notices him at the doorway and immediately a smile washes over her face. "Hey honey. Were you okay yesterday? When you got home you immediately went to bed." She's giving a worried frown now. "I was wondering if maybe you weren't feeling well or school just didn't go well?" She looks at him now, but the back of his bed hair is what she finds looking back at her. She breathes out a little chuckle.

"I was feeling fine," He shovels a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. "I was just tired." He butters the toast that just popped out of the toaster and puts jam on it before taking his cereal, jam, and orange juice to the table. Mrs. Watson watches her son sit down. "So how was school then? Did you meet anyone interesting?" Mrs. Watson smiles at her son who's face just lit up with excitement from her question. So he has met someone interesting. Mrs. Watson flashes a knowing smile "Is she pretty?" She teases.

"Oh it's a boy!" Her expression turns into surprised before returning to interested smiles. "His name is Sherlock Holmes." He takes a bite of his toast and a sip of his ice cold orange juice. "He's like some sort of a genius! He has my whole life figured out by just a few things he noticed from me!" Johns face darkens a little bit. "He doesn't have any friends though."

"Well maybe you'll just have to steal the honors of being his first." Mrs. Watson smiles.

John chugs the last of his juice before smiling at his mom and heading upstairs for his shower. Once he's out he brushes his teeth and combs his hair. He puts on the first set of clothes on the top of one of the boxes in his room before heading downstairs and grabbing his bag from the spot near the door where he carelessly shrugged it off the day before. On his way down the sidewalk he hears his mom shouting from the porch.

"Have a good day at school Johnny! I love you!" John cringes and checks around to make sure no one was around to hear. He waves to his mom before pacing himself away from the house.

John finds his way to his first period class just 2 minutes before the tardy bell rings. He greets the teacher who's a middle aged man with short brown hair going grey at the tips and rectangular glasses. He's wearing a t-shirt that says something about a Marathon and jeans with tennis shoes. The teacher introduces himself as Mr. Moore and gives John an assigned seat. He writes down the notes for History class and no one talks to him throughout the class. After the bell rings he asks Mr. Moore to direct him to Mrs. Hunter's room for Algebra.

"I could have a student take you if you'd like. Mrs. Donavan! Would you please show Mr. Watson to Mrs. Hunter's room?"

"Sure thing, Mr. M!" She flashes her teeth that look very white against her tanned skin.

John thanks Mr. Moore before following the girl out of the classroom.

"My name's Sally, by the way. We have English with Mrs. Revera." She smiles at John.

"Yeah I think I saw you. You had were busy taking a re-test or something though, right." John smiles back.

Sally scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Yeah. Mrs. Revera's make up test. She makes you do them in essay form as punishment for missing test days. It sucks."

"Wow that does sound horrible." John frowns. He seriously hopes he doesn't get some illness that requires him to stay home on a test day.

"So you've met some people in our class then?" They turn down a hallway.

"Yeah I met Roland and Carrie. A few other people talked to me but I'm not very good with names." John looks at Sally slightly apologetically before remembering Sherlock's in their class too. "Oh! And I met Sherlock!" He says with a smile the vanishes as soon as he catches Sally's shocked and slightly frightened look.

"Oh you poor thing! God, how did you even meet him?" Sally looks worried for John.

"Well the teacher asked him to show me to class. I think he's really nice actually."

Sally raises her eyebrows at John. "John, let me just tell you. Holmes? He's a freak. You know what his favorite things to do in his free time are?" John shakes his head, slightly confused.

"He likes to solve puzzles, tell people who they are, and look at dead things including people. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from him. Here's your class by the way. I gotta get off to class! I'll see you the period after next!" She smiles before she trots down the hallway and around the corner.


	4. English With Many Stares

During Algebra the teacher has John fill out a placement test. Once she finished grading it she informs him that he can take a course test and get transferred into the next advanced class in math, Geometry. She said he could probably get into Algebra 2 but the school wouldn't allow that. John talked to a girl named Catherine. He soon found out she really likes to talk and never runs out of things to say. Also she has a pet rabbit and her favorite movie is Titanic. He was very excited to get out of that class when the bell rang.

The class after Algebra was gym. John always loved gym. He talked to two boys in the class who's names are Josh and Lenny. Both of them play rugby and asked if he wanted to play with them some weekend. He said he'd love to. He met a man who was one year his senior as well, Greg Lestrade. He doesn't play rugby but he did participate in gym. They didn't talk much but he seemed nice and John decided he would talk to him more the next time he sees him.

Finally he gets to fourth period English and finds Sherlock sitting in the spot he guesses he usually assumes. Johns face curls into a huge grin as he walks over to sit next to Sherlock. He's been looking forward to talking to him all day, Sherlock's so much more interesting than the rest of the students. He's reading a medical book today.

"Hey Sherlock, what's up?" John beams. Sherlock doesn't even move his head as he responds with a "Mmmm" to show he's heard someone talking but doesn't actually have any idea what was said. John frowns. He's actually very disappointed that he didn't even so much as acknowledge his being there. John sits down putting his bag next to him and he shoves Sherlock a bit to get his attention.

Sally Donavan enters the class room with a boy and a girl. The girl is petite with blond curly hair, and the boy is a brunette with brown hair parted down the middle. She notices John and where he's sitting almost immediately. She gives him a slightly disgusted look before walking over. "Hey John, what are you doing sitting there with _him_?" She jerks her head at Sherlock.

"As of right now, nothing. He seems to be busy with his book." John smiles. Sally raises her eyebrows and the two other kids snicker before Sally starts to respond sarcastically. "Oh, right. Sorry my bad. I guess I'll uh, leave you two to it." She says before turning around and walking towards the middle of the classroom. As they walk away they start cackling obnoxiously loud.

John rolls his eyes and looks at Sherlock. He watches as his slender fingers turn the pages again and again. _Damn._ He thinks. _He's a fast bloody reader._  
John continued watching the pages turn one after the other. He's completely mesmerize by the graceful way they're moving, so when Sherlock turns to look at John, who is currently staring at Sherlock like he's been hypnotized, John can't stop the heat from rushing to his entire head before he turns his head to his desk and takes out a notebook for class.

"John. When did you get there?" Sherlock asks slowly while watching the boy's bright pink face become redder.

"I uh got here at the beginning of class." John clears his throat of embarrassment as his voice cracked. He knows that by now his ears and neck were probably red already too. What must Sherlock be thinking?

"I see..." Sherlock continues staring intently at the blushing boy in the desk beside him. "John, you wrote some of the vocabulary words twice." Sherlock points out while giving the embarrassed blonde boy a confused look.

"I did? Oh! Ha, thanks!" John says nervously before erasing the ones he put twice. He can feel Sherlock is still staring at him while he does so.

Sherlock is wondering what's wrong with John and why is face has gone bright red. He would understand if John had been talking to a girl, or looking at a girl and had been caught. Or even if Sherlock had said something to anger him or embarrass him, but he hadn't. "John, why is your face red?" Sherlock finally decides to ask discretely. Well there's something new.

John's face get's a whole lot more red, though he didn't think it possible. His face feels like it's on fire and he can't seem to come up with words. Thankfully Sherlock asks him another question. "Are you alright?" He asks silently, looking up through his eyebrows that are knitted together. John chuckles nervously a bit before nodding. This causes Sherlock to frown because he still can't figure it out, but he nods and faces his book again, though his eyes stay on John.

"Do you have to do that?" John asks silently. "Do what?" Sherlock asks, turning back at John. "Staring at me!" He says in a harsh whisper. "It's making me uncomfortable!" Sherlock's eyebrows shoot up and he now wear an expression that basically spells out 'Ah-Ha!'

"So _that's_ why you're uncomfortable? You really _are_ a weird bloke." Sherlock says before returning his gaze to his book with a slight grin on his face. _Interesting indeed._ He thinks to himself.

John just stares back at Sherlock with his mouth agape. The tardy bell rings and he closes his mouth and furrows his eyebrows, still staring at Sherlock. "So what did you do after school yesterday?" John asks Sherlock in attempt to start up some conversation.

Sherlock didn't look up from his book as he answered John. "I was doing experiments and blogging about them." He doesn't ask what John did because he assumes John will tell him if he wants to. Unfortunately Sherlock doesn't realize that's considered to be a bit rude.

The teacher finishes role and starts her lecture. John clears his throat and begins to whisper to Sherlock. "What kind of experiments?" He asks calmly, honestly being interested. Sherlock raises an eyebrow. "Oh I hardly think you'd be interested, John." He says coldly.

"Well I am. What kind of experiments?" He asks again. Sherlock looks at John with his hard stare, taking in all of John's actions and reactions. "It had something to do with beetles and survival." Sherlock says, offering no further explanation before he turns back to his book.

"I see." John decides he can't think up another way to further this conversation, so he'll juts try again in Biology class. Sherlock spends the rest of the class time reading while John avoids the staring of the other people in the class who apparently can't believe anyone would sit with Sherlock. John decides it's their loss.


End file.
